Audrey
by SCP-blank
Summary: Canon compliant. The more information Rita Skeeter dug up, the more she was convinced that Mrs. Audrey Weasley didn't exist before her wedding to Percy Weasley in 2001. Time travel.


When Rita Skeeter, who was officially retired as she was almost eighty years old - a solid age for journalist of yellow pages, decided to write a biography on current Minister - Percy Weasley, she was pleasantly surprised.

The more information she dug up, the more she was convinced that Mrs. Audrey Weasley didn't exist before her wedding to Percy Weasley in 2001.

* * *

**15th of January, 2001. London, British isles.**

The winter was unusually cold that year. He had no idea how muggles managed to get through the cold - there even was snow! If not the warming charms, he would have become something similar to an ice cube by now.

Percy Weasley scowled. This was most inconvenient. It was supposed to be a British winter, not a Siberian one. Warming charms weren't fool-proof and he had to go by foot to Grimauld 12.

Now, he would have surely apparated to Harry's place or used the floo or even the Knight bus but due to some cosmic joke all of those options were unavailable.

Percy couldn't apparate because he had severely splinched himself a week ago (he tried to apparate from the Hog's head to his flat that night) and Healer insisted that he avoid (read: don't dare to try or next time no healer will patch him up) apparition for a month! Moreover, he couldn't use the floo because he forgot to pay his floo-taxes (a new concept introduced by Hermione Granger-like thinkers in order to get the money to repair the war damage) since he was born in a wizarding environment and never had to bother about paying taxes for floo. (though there were those who would be quick to point out he was working in a magical travel department)

And most annoying, the driver of the Knight bus (Ernie or Erl he was called) was on strike ever since they (the ministry) increased the ticket costs and thinned out the ranks of customers that way.

And so this was how Percy Weasley found himself during this cold walking from his flat in London's centre to Grimauld 12 place where Harry Potter lived.  
It wasn't even a friendly visit. While the 'axes of war' were officially buried and no grudges were held on each side, neither Percy nor Harry would go as far as to call each other friends. They never were and it was unlikely that they ever will be.

It had everything to do with the task that Kingsley had given to the two of them. They had to evaluate their colleagues or in other words spy on them because there was an ongoing investigation about leaking information from the Ministry.

After the war Ministry had reformed but because of the lack of professionals, they were forced to rehire some of those from previous, corrupted Ministry. And both of them were about to lay their plan on catching the leaks.

Or where supposed to but Percy was late because of the damned floo-taxes!

As he walked in his longs strides, he noticed the woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere to late and collided with her.

* * *

**25th of June, 1981. London, British isles.**

Dorcas was pacing. He knew where she was. Voldemort knew where she was. She couldn't avoid him any longer and there was no point in trying to call for the Order to help.

Pop! An apparition crack and a heavy presence.

Just do your best, fight as good as you can! She was twirling her wand in her hand. Almost there...

She knew this was the end because she had a gift. Or at least some people would have called it that way - she could sense the future, not always, not definitely but in rare cases he knowledge was certain.

And she was certain she had to die at that time.

Sirius.  
I never told him. Not that they were exclusive, but he did have a right to know his heir was about to die.

She closed her eyes and clenched the old family heirloom she always carried around with her.  
It had no special power, just a pretty trinket that calmed her down.

She hear his light footsteps reach her door and knew there were only a fight left.  
It's time.

She opened her eyes and shot out a hex at the same time Voldemort bombarded her door.

She lost herself in adrenalin as they traded curses. Shoot, duck, shoot, duck. The rhythm she knew quite well, ever since she became one of the soldiers in this war.

But one curse was too fast for her to duck from and it caught her in her thigh, cutting it. She let out a scream, making Lord Voldemort smirk in satisfaction.

But that was not the only thing it damaged.

The supposed 'family heirloom' - a necklace Dorcas always carried with her didn't belong in England.

It was a necklace, created by shamans of Native America (Indian wizards), one that was stolen from them a long time ago and eventually was found by one of Meadoweses. Dorcas great uncle Orpheus, exactly.

And it was saturated in magical energy (not that British wizards were capable of feeling untainted, wild magic). It was a reason why Dorcas could sense things before they came true and why she was so good at magic. She was around a source of powerful magic ever since she was born and that way she picked up a few tricks.

And so when the curse collided with it, the necklace exploded, creating a magical explosion with it. The magic, contained in the talisman was free and wild again and it felt threatened. And it ran away, taking Dorcas along for a ride.

A ride twenty years in the future.

After the wave of explosion evaporated, Voldemort saw only a pile of Dorcas blood and some scattered pieces of clothing.

He decided that it was all that was left from Dorcas Meadowes and congratulated himself on killing one more of Dumbledore's lackeys.

* * *

**15th of January, 2001. London, British isles.**

They collided, both of them falling in the snow. Percy was about to tell the woman what he thought about clumsy people when he noticed she was bleeding.

"Oh Merlin!" He exclaimed which made the woman start as she looked at him. Her left thigh was torn. By a curse, he felt sure of it as he felt the magic. it seemed to be surrounding her, unwilling to fade.

"Are you a muggle?" Percy asked his words rushed as he already was pulling out his wand, statue of secrecy or no statue. The woman sighed in relief, shaking her head but she still seemed to be in shock. Percy stopped the bleeding and looked around, finally remembering he was in a muggle world. Fortunately it seemed no muggle was willing to go out in this cold. He looked at the injured witch, who was shaking from the cold. Percy sighed and conjured a patronus, sending a message to Harry. There was no way he could reach Grimauld nr. 12 now, with this injured witch accompanying him.


End file.
